


Let’s Do This Together

by dreamingofwinter



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Humanity (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Cake, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, Fix-It of Sorts, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Good Omens 30th Anniversary, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Lonely Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, More close friendship though, Mutual Pining, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, Romance, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Sort-of-shippy, quarantine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23974291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingofwinter/pseuds/dreamingofwinter
Summary: Aziraphale hadn’t sounded sure when he requested Crowley stay away. In fact, he sounded positively despondent. After coming up with an idea of how he can hunker down at the bookshop without tempting the humans to break the rules along the way, Crowley decides to ask his angel again.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 135





	Let’s Do This Together

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Good Omens Lockdown episode which I was hugely excited to discover the other day!
> 
> CW for mentions of the pandemic and lockdown, although it’s kept to a minimum and the focus is on the friendship/relationship. 
> 
> A continuation of the episode, as Aziraphale sounded so sad at the end I just couldn’t let it lie.

He had to give himself some credit. He had _tried_ to sleep, after all, after their conversation. But the angel’s farewell played over and over in his mind, the tone of sadness unmistakable in his words.

Crowley had tossed and turned for an hour or two before giving up completely and sauntering into his kitchen. Scanning his wine selection, he picked up a bottle of vintage Bordeaux and pulled a glass out of thin air. 

As he poured the dark red liquid, he felt a pang of longing as he thought about how much better it would be if Aziraphale was there to share it with him. 

...................

Aziraphale, being an angel, had tried to do the right thing. 

Although he was not in any danger of contracting or spreading a human disease, Aziraphale thought it would be prudent to set a good example and follow the rules the humans had put in place. After all, he had been on Earth long enough to know about blending in. 

As much as an eccentric, fussy, celestial bookshop owner _could_ blend in. 

He ran his hands over the envelope that he had addressed to Crowley in his elegant handwriting. Perhaps he was being a little over-zealous in his efforts to fit in. _No_ , it wasn’t that. Part of him had wondered how long it would take for him to start pining for Crowley when he suggested this whole separation. It was a silly, romantic notion, thinking he would write long letters detailing shared memories and telling the demon what he had been getting up to without him. 

Instead of a bittersweet longing and notions of written correspondence as he explored new human pastimes, within a few weeks, Aziraphale had found himself feeling impossibly lonely with no amount of baked goods filling the Crowley-shaped void. 

He was sure his corporation must be getting softer by the day. 

...................

Crowley was pacing.

He couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to drink. He had put on the television, but couldn’t stand any more repeats of the Golden Girls and couldn’t decide which James Bond film to watch. He’d seen them all before anyway. 

He couldn’t get Aziraphale’s sorrowful voice of longing out of his head. It felt like a part of him was missing. The part where his heart should be.

The angel’s final words to him played over and over again like a tape recorder stuck on a loop. 

_Stuck on a loop._

_Like Hastur, on his answerphone._

Crowley had an idea. One he was sure Aziraphale couldn’t possibly object to. He leapt to his feet, grinning stupidly, full of hope as he dialled the number for the bookshop.

...................

Aziraphale was wallowing.

Crowley’s words had been temptations in themselves.

_‘I could slither over...’_

He wanted nothing more than to pick up the telephone, call the demon back and insist he see out the end of this awful business at the bookshop.

Together.

Sighing, Aziraphale placed his head in his hands. He _wanted_ to set an example. He wanted to do the right thing. 

For once, he was contemplating actually using his status as a celestial entity to justify not behaving like the humans. 

Then the phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

.............

“Hello, I’m afraid we are quite definitely closed. If there’s something I can help you -“

“It’s me again.” The unmistakeable voice drawled down the phone.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale found himself beaming, his heart lifting at the sound of the demon’s voice.

“So... I tried the sleeping thing. Didn’t really take. Opened a bottle of wine instead. Didn’t fancy it... not without you.”

“Where is this going, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked softly, _hoping_. Hoping he would be asked again. 

“ _Ngk_ , angel, you sure I can’t come over? I know you want to follow the rules, I do too for once... but it’s _us_ , isn’t it? We can’t really go wrong on this one. And I have a way of getting to the bookshop without anyone seeing me. We can still stay in until it’s all over, but... let’s do it together, yeah?”

Crowley’s voice was pleading, and Aziraphale’s resolve weakened.

“You have a way of getting here without people seeing, you say? You won’t pass anyone in the street, let them think you’re breaking the rules?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit more complicated but it’ll do.”

Aziraphale’s mind was made up. If he was entirely honest with himself, it had been the moment he picked up the phone. 

“You wily old serpent, you.” He sighed in mock defeat. “Oh alright then. Temptation accomplished.”

There was a pause as though Crowley had not expected the angel to actually accept. Aziraphale barely noticed, feeling somewhat giddy about the prospect of spending the next few weeks in the constant company of his dearest friend. Trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, he decided to establish the logistics. 

“So... when do you think you might be popping over then?”

“Erm... well... how about now?”

“Now? But - but I haven’t got anything ready, the place needs a jolly good tidy up- ”

“Angel.” Crowley drawled, cutting him off. “You’ve got more cake than even _you_ know what to do with, I've got a nice bottle of wine I can miracle over, what more do we need? I’ve seen your bookshop in the middle of a spring clean before.”

“Oh, well, I suppose when you put it like that...” he trailed off, his mind half wandering to contemplate which cake he would get out ready for Crowley’s arrival. 

“Right, that’s settled then. On my way. Oh, are you on the phone at your desk?”

Aziraphale was puzzled. “Yes, why?”

“You might want to move back.” 

Aziraphale suddenly realised what Crowley’s mode of transport was about to be. 

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Crowley!”

Aziraphale placed the receiver on the desk and pushed back his chair, hearing the whoosh of a demon travelling at goodness knows what speed through the phone line. Within seconds, a mass of atoms spilled out of the receiver and merged to form the shape of his best friend, who promptly staggered and fell straight into him. 

“Hi.” Crowley, hands bracing himself on the arms of Aziraphale’s chair, found himself nose to nose with the angel. 

“Oh! Hello, dear. Good trip?” He asked, lap full of tousled demon.

Crowley almost blushed at the proximity in which he found himself.

“Hmm. Not the nicest way to travel.”

He extracted himself from the angel with a slight grimace and straightened his clothes.

“You could’ve given me a bit more warning, you know.” Aziraphale said warmly, not really minding at all. 

“Well, you know, don’t want the neighbours seeing me coming round and gossiping. ‘S not like they know what we _are_.”

“True, true. Did you bring the wine?”

“Here.” The demon snapped his fingers, materialising the bottle of vintage red on the desk. “Not a good idea to bring it with me the way I came.”

“I suppose not,” Aziraphale chuckled, reaching over to replace the receiver.

There was a brief silence, as they looked at each other. 

“I-“

“You-“

They spoke at the same time, both breaking off at the realisation. There was another pause, before Crowley broke the silence, whatever words they had been about to say left unsaid. 

“So, let’s see these cakes then, angel.”

................

Four hours later, Crowley was sprawled over the sofa in his favourite position as Aziraphale reclined comfortably in his armchair. Both had reached a state of being pleasantly tipsy without being completely inebriated, and several plates that had bore tasty baked goods now lay empty with the exception of a few crumbs. 

They had spent the last hour or so reminiscing, until Crowley decided he was tipsy enough to bring up the question of why on Earth they hadn’t thought of doing this in the first place. 

“Well... it was all very sudden, my dear. And it didn’t seem fair on the humans, us sat here having a jolly good time when some of them are ever so lonely,” Aziraphale mused. 

“Well, yeah, but angel... you’ve made enough cakes out there to open a bakery, never mind a bookshop. Even with your little night time visitors, I doubt we’ll get through this lot before it’s all over.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Dunno... something to do with me helping you eat them. Or watch you eat them, more like...” Crowley trailed off, cheeks reddening when he realised what he had just said. 

“Well, as long as you’re enjoying yourself, dear,” Aziraphale said primly, a smirk playing at his lips. He couldn’t help noticing earlier how Crowley’s eyes had fixated on him as he licked the remnants of the gateaux’s cream from his lips.

Crowley took a large gulp of wine, definitely not drunk enough for where the conversation was heading. 

“I’ve missed this.” Aziraphale gave Crowley a fond smile that almost lit up the room. 

“I’ve missed _you_ ,” the demon blurted out. 

It was Aziraphale’s turn to blush, and Crowley held his breath.

“Likewise.” The angel smiled shyly and sincerely, eyes briefly flickering up to meet with Crowley’s. 

A companionable silence filled the room, and Crowley felt himself becoming drowsy. 

“Don’t mind me, angel,” he said, yawning and stretching cat-like on the sofa.

“Oh, you’re tired! If you’d like to sleep, there is an exceptionally comfy bed in the bedroom.”

An exceptionally comfy bed that had materialised when Crowley had started coming over regularly, and had been brought into existence solely for the demon. Aziraphale did not mention that part, though. 

“Oh, now that _is_ tempting,” Crowley grinned up at the angel. 

“Yes, well, as you know I don’t personally partake in sleeping, but I can keep you company until you drop off, if you like.”

“That’d be nice. _Ugh_ ,” he stuck out his tongue at the slip of the four letter word. 

“Come on, you silly snake.” Aziraphale stood and offered his hand to the demon, who looked at it with something akin to wonder before grasping it. Allowing Aziraphale to pull him up off the sofa, Crowley swayed slightly as he stood. 

“Steady now. Do you want to sober up?” Aziraphale held onto his hand as the demon regained his balance.

“Nah, ‘s fine. Not that drunk.”

“If you say so, my dear.” 

A slender arm snaked around Aziraphale’s waist as he led Crowley to the bedroom. The touch was warm and comforting after their time apart.

“Thank you, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured as they approached the door.

“For what?” Crowley gazed down at him with bleary amber eyes. 

“For this. For not just leaving me to it, as they say. For being here with me... _for_ me.”

“Any time, angel.” 

Crowley pressed a soft kiss of understanding to Aziraphale’s fluffy blond curls as the angel led him by the hand through the bedroom door. 

**Author's Note:**

> The baking part of the episode made me laugh. It’s exactly what I’m spending half my time doing. I have more cake than I know what to do with, and I’m now inspired to make Black Forest gateaux (assuming I can find cherries!). 
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you’re all staying safe :)


End file.
